


Setting Sun, Rising Moon

by Jaina (effervescible)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Afterlife, Breakups, Drama, F/M, Flashbacks, Lovers to Friends, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effervescible/pseuds/Jaina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Half a century ago, Ichigo became a substitute shinigami while he was still alive. At the end of that life, it's time to become the real thing, but with death comes unexpected challenges—not the least of which is that presented by seeing Rukia again for the first time in years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On death, career changes, and memories of youthful indiscretions

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2007. As this fic takes place decades after the then-future predicted winter war, related historical references are largely creative inventions.

Ichigo died.   
  
He sat up. "Well. That was easier than I thought it would be."  
  
"I’m impressed you managed it." Rukia smirked at him as he stood. "You’ve been pretty hard to kill in the past."  
  
"I wasn’t 77 in the past," he said. He glanced at his still, silent body that lay on the bed he’d died in, then down at his soul’s form, which from his vantage point appeared considerably younger. "Huh. I look a lot more handsome now."  
  
She just smiled. "You know, you’ve kept important people waiting a long time."  
  
"Ah, pipe down, I had things to do." He looked away from the body and flexed his arms experimentally. The arthritis was gone. He hadn’t been able to move this easily in years.  
  
Rukia still looked the same—that face that hadn’t changed since the day they’d met but had somehow grown younger to him as he’d aged. That "exasperated by human foolishness but deigning to tolerate it" expression. It had been a long time since she’d looked at him like that. He’d missed it more than he’d realized. "So you’re here instead of the local shinigami, huh? You must have missed me."  
  
"Of course not," she scoffed. "You’re too annoying to miss."  
  
"And you’re too bossy."  
  
"Idiot."  
  
"Bitch."  
  
They glared at each other, but Ichigo could see the corners of Rukia’s mouth turning up, and as if by mutual agreement, they broke into grins. "So, are you ready to do this thing?" he asked.  
  
Rukia nodded. "I’ll see you soon."  
  
"Aren’t you coming with me?"  
  
She shook her head. "Every soul has to do this alone." In one smooth motion, she unsheathed Shirayuki and smacked his forehead with the end of her hilt. It tingled where she struck.  
  
"But—"  
  
The world around him dissolved.  
  
When he felt the ground under his feet again, he looked down to see that he was still wearing his faded pajamas and hospital robe instead of a proper black uniform. He hadn’t realized that he would arrive in Soul Society without one. Rukia probably had. Trust her not to mention that detail.  
  
It only took one glance to tell him he stood in Rukongai. The current residents barely spared the newcomer a glance as they passed by. He didn’t look like anything special, and with their lack of spiritual sense, they couldn’t tell he was a shinigami. And he was, even then—his blade was nowhere in sight, but Ichigo could still feel Zangetsu resting in his mind, deep and silent but a little closer to the surface than he had been in many years.  
  
"It’s all right, ossan," he said. "Take your time waking up."  
  
He turned his attention to what was around him. He needed to find Seireitei, but he had no idea how to get there. He didn’t recognize the buildings around him—it would be too much to hope that he could find Ganjuu for a drink, a brawl, and directions.  
  
A strange pang struck him then. The last time he’d arrived in Soul Society feeling this lost, he’d at least had his friends by his side. Chad, Inoue, Ishida...it had been a while since he’d been fit to keep in contact, but as far as he knew, he couldn’t expect to find them here. Not yet. For the moment, he was on his own.  
  
Well, there was only one other way to do it. He looked up, squinting against the sun, and spotted the tip of Senzaikyuu far, far in the distance.  
  
He stuck his hands in his pockets and started walking. It was a hot day with little breeze, so he was sweating lightly within a few minutes, but it felt good just to be outside. Fresh air was supposed to be good for you, and Ichigo believed it. It certainly felt better in his lungs than the sterile, circulated air of the hospital had. The people he passed looked clean and the buildings were well-kept. This had to be a lower-numbered district. That should make the trip easier; he’d be at Seireitei in no time.  
  
Five hours later, he was sweaty, tired, and in a pissier mood than when he was fucking _dying_ , but with perseverance and a few inquiries to the souls that lived closer to Seireitei, he’d finally made it to one of the gates. Eastern, by the look of the shadows the walls cast. It was closed, but there was no giant ape-like guardian in sight, so Ichigo just headed toward it, figuring he’d decide what to do next when he got there.  
  
He should have worried. The gate swung up when he arrived, but instead of Rukia it was Zaraki Kenpachi who stood behind it, with that vice-captain of his perched on his shoulder like a tiny pink demon.  
  
Zaraki grinned. "Welcome to Soul Society, Kurosaki,” he said. “We can finally fight again."  
  
Ichigo swore. "No way," he said firmly. "I’m done with that."  
  
Zaraki’s grin grew bigger, if that was possible. "You’re dead this time. You can’t run away anymore."  
  
"What are you even doing here? Where’s the gatekeeper?!"  
  
"Ken-chan gave him the day off!" Yachiru announced. "Ken-chan’s been looking forward to this for _decades!_ "  
  
"I DON’T EVEN HAVE MY ZANPAKUTOU, YOU LOON!"  
  
"Captain Zaraki!" Rukia’s voice rang out as she ran up to the gate from the inside. Ichigo thought he had never been so happy to see her. "Harassing newly-arrived souls is strictly forbidden!"  
  
"Bah, I’m just preparing him." He turned to go, his expectant grin never wavering. "After all, I want him to be as strong as possible when we fight again!"  
  
"Bye-bye, Vice-Captain Shorty! Bye, Itchy!" Yachiru waved enthusiastically from her position on Zaraki’s shoulder until they were out of sight. A stray thought about kids these days having no respect flashed through his brain, but he shook it off.  
  
"Sorry about that." Rukia shook her head. "I knew he wanted to challenge you, but frankly, I assumed they’d get lost. We can go now."  
  
"About time," he said. He started to move, then stopped. "Wait. Did she call you...?"  
  
"Yes. As if she is one to speak of height." She rolled her eyes. "But then, Vice-Captain Kusajishi has never had any sense of irony."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I have invited her to call me by my given name more than once, but she persists in—"  
  
"Not that!" he said. "The other part!"  
  
"Oh." A smirk spread across her face. “Don’t gape like that at a vice-captain, Ichigo. It’s unbecoming.”  
  
He shut his mouth with a click. “Well...hey! Congratulations.” He wanted to ask how long it had been, what had finally prompted it, why she hadn’t told him when it did—he’d been infirm, not deaf—but she spoke before he could continue.  
  
"Thank you." She nodded. "Come on. This way."  
  
When he’d come to Soul Society to rescue Rukia, Ichigo had explored one of the lower Western districts of Rukongai. The souls who lived there were poor but clean, and he’d been impressed with how nice things looked, considering. The Kuchiki estate went way beyond that. Ichigo could barely tell they were inside Seireitei once they passed through the gate. The path they took to the main house wound around sprawling gardens and meticulously landscaped yards. Everything was so orderly, not a pebble out of place or weed where one shouldn’t be. There wasn’t anything splashy, but he could tell it took serious money to keep everything looking so rigidly perfect.  
  
"Nice digs," he said as Rukia led him on.  
  
"They suffice," she said. "As vice-captain, I am entitled to private quarters in the thirteenth division barracks, but I still spend time here out of propriety."  
  
"Right." He stretched his legs, enjoying the slower pace now that he wasn’t hurrying to meet anyone. It had been a while since he’d been able to take a walk like this under his own power. Getting pushed around in a wheelchair by thoughtful grandnieces was nice, but it didn’t qualify, and at the end there had been no walks at all. Right now, he felt like he could walk forever. "So this is what it’s like to be dead."  
  
"Does it feel different being here?"  
  
"Pretty much the same as last time," he said. "Feels good to be able to move around easy on my own again. Nice to be here, I guess. Kinda weird at the same time."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Well, yeah." He fidgeted. "I thought it’d feel more like the old days, but it’s like my brain hasn’t made the connection yet. I keep expecting to need a walker or something."  
  
Rukia looked amused. "Would you have preferred to remain an invalid?"  
  
"Hell no. Glad I didn’t pop out old. My creaky bones wouldn’t be much good in a fight then."  
  
"Be thankful for your spiritual abilities. Those who have them arrive at Soul Society in their prime and age at will. Without them, you would have spent your time here as you did in life."  
  
Ichigo shuddered. "I did get pretty used to being old. Not much choice, you know? But I never got to like it." He shrugged. "It feels good to be here. Been a long time since I last visited."  
  
"You’re not a visitor anymore, though," she said. "This is your world now."  
  
His world—the same as hers. For once, they’d have that in common. "Heh. I guess it is."  
  
"You find it amusing?"  
  
"Not really," he said. "I was just thinking." He stuck his hands in his pockets and searched for the right words. "Living in Soul Society for good. Guess I didn’t think it would ever really happen."  
  
She looked away. "Everyone dies eventually."  
  
"Dying’s the easy part. I’m not so sure about what comes next."  
  
She was quiet for a moment before smiling. "You can start by changing out of those ridiculous pajamas."  
  
"Hey! They’re comfortable. And if you’d bothered to bring something for me to wear, I wouldn’t be in them!"  
  
"I am not your fashion consultant!"  
  
"No, you’re just the girl who can’t go five minutes without busting my balls."  
  
"Someone has to." She grinned. He realized he was grinning, too.  
  
It almost slipped as he looked down at her. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be around Rukia like this—the camaraderie, the comfortable bickering. It didn’t feel completely natural yet—he still felt like he should be a grumpy old man, and it had been a long time since they’d talked like this. But it was still reassuring in its way. Like something once lost that he was starting to believe he could find again.  
  
"Come on, let’s go inside," Rukia said. "I’ll give you the tour."  
  
The interior of the Kuchiki mansion reminded Ichigo a lot of its owner: tastefully sparse. There were a few decorations—a wall scroll here, an exquisitely carved table there—but nothing to make the place look lived in. Servants hung about, ready when they were needed but otherwise fading into the background. Their master was nowhere to be seen. Rukia assured him that Byakuya would be pleased to see him, really, it was just that he was tied up with Captain business at the moment. Ichigo had his doubts.  
  
"So how is everything in Soul Society going?" he asked. "Uncover any more secret conspiracies lately?"  
  
Rukia shot him one of her special Looks. "All conspiracies are secret, idiot,” she said. “Things are calm, though I doubt that will last now that you’re here."  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"You do tend to stir things up, Ichigo."  
  
"It’s not me who started things last time," he retorted. "But I’m just a normal shinigami like the rest of you now."  
  
Rukia laughed. "I doubt anyone would ever describe you as normal." Her expression cleared. "Actually, that’s something I needed to talk to you about. I was going to wait and let you acclimate, but I suppose now’s as good a time as any."  
  
"Eh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds serious."  
  
"It is, in a way," she said. "It was recently announced that Captain Hisagi is to ascend to a seat in the Central 46."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Hisagi Shuuhei," she said. "He replaced Aizen as captain of the fifth division after the war. I know I told you this when it happened."  
  
"Probably." He frowned, trying to jog his hazy memory. "Tattooed guy?"  
  
"Yes, the `tattooed guy.’ You fought on his side, Ichigo, you should remember who he is!"  
  
"You know I’m lousy at remembering names."  
  
"You’ll have to get better if you want to be a captain of the Gotei 13," she said sharply.  
  
He nodded. "Ah. Right...WHAT?" He stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall they were in, wheeling around to face her.  
  
"Someone has to be captain, and now you are here." She paused. "It never occurred to you that this might happen?"  
  
"No!" He gaped at her as he fumbled for words. "I thought—I thought I’d just die and then do the same stuff I used to only I wouldn’t have to worry about my body! And they want to make me a CAPTAIN? WHY?"  
  
Rukia looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. "You’re more than qualified," she said. "You are a skilled fighter. You achieved bankai in record time. You have the ability to lead and inspire respect in those who follow you. You demonstrated all these qualities decades ago. You should have expected to be made captain."  
  
He glared at her. "Yeah, well, I didn’t. It’s a huge responsibility."  
  
"Since when have you been one to run from responsibility?"  
  
"It’s not like that. It’s...look, all you Soul Society guys have your own way of doing things. There’s this whole structure of things I don’t know anything about—I just come in and smash all the rules and do it my way. That’s not really what they should be looking for in a leader. I might be a shinigami but I was never really part of the group."  
  
"You are an idiot," Rukia snapped. She leaned closer, hands firmly on her hips, and Ichigo felt like she was bearing down on him with disapproval, as physically impossible as that would be. "Of course you weren’t part of `the group,’ as you say. You had the rest of your life to live. Everyone respected that. But you’re here now, Ichigo. What would you like to do instead? Run off on your own, ignore your duty?"  
  
That stung. "No. But that doesn’t mean I have to be a captain. It’s not an either-or thing."  
  
"It is in this case," she said. "To be offered a captaincy is a tremendous honor. To turn it down for the sake of your own unfounded misgivings would be an equally tremendous insult."  
  
"I thought you said I deserved it."  
  
"That does not lessen the honor," she said sternly. Her voice carried through the still, silent air and he wondered briefly if the servants were listening or if they’d been trained not to hear private arguments.  
  
"Look, it’s not like I want to insult anyone," he said. "I just don’t want them to make the wrong choice just cuz I kicked some ass when I was a kid."  
  
Rukia gave him a long, piercing look, one that meant she was about to say something important and he damn well better listen. "You are an idiot," she said again, "because you insist on being blind to your own worth. The captains of the Gotei 13 are not stupid, Ichigo. They know you. They believe in you. And so do I. You’ve been proving yourself since the day you took on my duties."  
  
Ichigo faltered. He felt his cheeks heat up. "That was different."  
  
"Is it?" She tilted her head to one side. "You always wanted to protect people. How many more people do you think you can protect as a captain—working with Soul Society instead of on your own?"  
  
"Is dealing with a ton of paperwork going to help with that?"  
  
"You take things so literally." Her expression softened into what looked like the beginnings of a smile, though the sternness didn’t leave her eyes. "There’s more to protecting people than running around slicing hollows to ribbons. You might not get your hands as bloody, but since when has that been the most important thing?"  
  
"Still. It’s not like I really fit in well last time I was here, Rukia."  
  
"Yes. And that is why this is so important," she said. "You saw how things were, how easy it was for Aizen to manipulate everyone. Soul Society’s foundation is strong, but..." She looked away for a moment, and he knew how hard it was for her to say this. "But we must make sure such a thing can never happen again. You fought Soul Society with an outsider’s eyes and helped reveal the truth. We still need that, to keep protecting people…the way you protected me then."  
  
"I…" He wanted to say something, to protest further, but it was very difficult to form words when she was looking at him with such absolute confidence. "I don't know how to be a captain."  
  
She made a face and kicked him in the shin. “Is that all you’re worried about? Idiot. We’ll train you, of course. You thought we’d just give you a captain’s haori and turn you loose?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Hell yeah. You’ve already got Zaraki running around."  
  
She kicked him again. "We do. And he agreed that you should be the next captain. They all did. It was unanimous among the other captains."  
  
"Really? Even your tight-assed brother?"  
  
Rukia gave him a "continue and I’ll flash-freeze you" look. "Yes, nii-sama agreed. That is what unanimous means."  
  
"I know that! I just have a hard time believing that your brother of all people would—"  
  
A wave of reiatsu stopped him from continuing. "That I would what, exactly?"  
  
Ichigo turned to see Kuchiki Byakuya standing in the doorway, his standard "bored and better than you" expression firmly in place. “Good evening, Rukia, Kurosaki,” he said, not waiting for Ichigo’s answer. "Welcome to Soul Society and to my home. Will you be joining us for dinner?"  
  
"Yes, nii-sama," Rukia answered for him. "I think he should stay here tonight as well. His guest quarters won't be ready until tomorrow."  
  
Byakuya nodded. "I will have the servants prepare a room."  
  
"Was he really just polite to me?" Ichigo hissed once Byakuya had left.  
  
She elbowed him in the side. "Shut up, idiot. He respects you, you know, in his own way. Now come on, you’ve got to change before dinner."  
  
"Change? Into what?"  
  
"Into the proper attire." She grinned. "You’re a full-time shinigami now, Ichigo. You’ve got to look the part."  
  
Dinner was about as uncomfortable as Ichigo had imagined it would be. Byakuya said very little and Rukia followed his lead, leaving Ichigo to feel hopelessly outclassed—the Kuchiki family even ate gracefully.  
  
At least the food was good.  
  
The guest room Rukia led him to afterwards was as sparsely furnished as the rest of the place, but he didn’t need much more than a futon.  
  
"If you need anything, I’ll be just down the hall," she said.  
  
"Rukia," he said, stopping her as she turned to leave.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He wasn’t actually sure what he wanted to say. There was a time when he wouldn’t have had to say anything—Rukia had always been good at reading him, better than anyone else.  
  
But that was a long time ago. "Goodnight," he finally said.  
  
"Goodnight, Ichigo."  
  
He watched her go to her own room before entering his. There didn’t seem to be anything to do other than undress and go to bed, so he did. He was kind of tired, now that he thought about it. Dying took a lot out of a guy.  
  
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to actually fall asleep; he lay there and stared at the ceiling, all that had happened and all that was going to happen swirling through his mind. He was lost in thought when he heard a loud click come from the direction of the door; he could feel Byakuya’s reiatsu moving away.  
  
Ichigo stared for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. For all that Rukia professed Byakuya’s newfound respect, it seemed the guy still had some reservations. Ichigo had no doubt that if he got up to check, the door would be locked from the outside, all in the name of preventing Ichigo from sneaking into Byakuya’s little sister’s room for more hospitality than Byakuya wanted her to offer.  
  
Ichigo rolled over to sleep. He couldn’t blame the stuffed-shirt; he’d been tempted to do the same with a few of Karin and Yuzu’s boyfriends, after all.  
  
It was just too bad that Byakuya was over fifty years too late.  
  
Ichigo didn’t usually remember his dreams with any kind of clarity, and when he did, they never made much sense. Maybe it was something about Soul Society’s inherently spiritual nature, or maybe it was just being around Rukia again, but the memories washed over him as he lay there, strong enough that they didn’t seem to stop when he fell asleep.  
  
They’d been so young. Him more than her, but even with the decades she’d already had on him, he couldn’t think of her as anything else when he looked back. It had been a while since he’d seen her face to face. She'd still had duties in the living world from time to time, but she’d never been reinstated as Karakura’s shinigami after that disastrous first assignment, and with the Aizen thing over and done with, she had less reason to be there. He’d missed her, a hell of a lot sometimes, but the epic battles were done and they each had their own world to return to.  
  
She went to Soul Society; he went to college. He discovered dating and did a little of it, though nothing really stuck with the girls he knew. Rukia still came to see him when she could and they’d go on the hunt together, purifying Hollows and performing konso all night and talking until dawn when they could find no more. It was almost like the old days, until she'd have to leave again.  
  
And then, at the beginning of one weekend in the spring, she showed up unexpectedly and announced that she wanted to see more of this university thing that took up so much of his time. She’d even procured a gigai for the occasion. He’d shown her around the place, introduced her to friends who didn’t know about spirits and Soul Society and didn’t understand what such a hot chick was doing with Ichigo.  
  
It had been fun. It felt right to have Rukia around again, sharing his life beyond the stolen hours as a shinigami representative. He hadn’t planned for it to be anything more than a nice weekend with an old friend—hadn’t planned to kiss her, nor thought of how he’d react when she kissed him upon returning from Ichigo’s favorite sake bar.  
  
He’d loved Rukia for a long time, but had never let himself think of being _in_ love with her. He’d gone out and lived his life. He knew there were steps to this sort of thing—go on a date, start with a few kisses. That didn’t stop him from unbuttoning her blouse and slipping her bra straps off the shoulders of her false body when she pressed herself against him.  
  
He saw it again in his dreams, the details hazier but still remembered—the way she’d flushed as she undressed him, the expression on her face when he’d tried to stop them both to go to the drugstore for a condom. The ache in his skull when she’d hit him and explained why it was unnecessary.  
  
In his mind, Ichigo was in the middle of losing his virginity when he glanced over to see Zangetsu leaning against the wall, viewing the proceedings with a critical eye.  
  
"Ossan?!" he shouted. "What—what are you doing here?"  
  
"I’ve always been here, Ichigo,” the zanpakutou-made-manifest said coolly. “Always with you."  
  
"But you weren’t HERE! I remember—this didn’t happen!"  
  
Zangetsu shook his head and strode over. "Ichigo," he said. "Do you really think I could sleep through this?"  
  
He tapped Ichigo sharply on the head and suddenly the world went sideways. Ichigo crashed off the bed, but if the Rukia in his dreams noticed, he couldn’t tell, because the walls dissolved and he was falling, rushing past the glass windows of skyscrapers...  
  
Ichigo sat up.  
  
It was morning. A quick look around the guest room assured him that he was still dead and, unfortunately, not in the middle of getting any. Though his body didn’t seem to have gotten that message. He stood up to find a bathroom for a cold shower—Byakuya probably would've sent someone to unlock the door by this time, but if he hadn't, he’d bust it open now and apologize later.  
  
He stopped when he saw Zangetsu—in sword form this time—leaning against the wall like he had always been there. Like he belonged there.  
  
He grinned. “Morning, ossan.”  
  
Soul Society already felt a little more like home.


	2. On old lovers, new lessons, and things lost and found

Ichigo was dying.

It had been a long time coming, but when the news reached her division, Rukia had to sit back for several minutes to absorb it. It wasn't that she hadn't expected this day to come; for all the rules he'd broken in his lifetime, not even Ichigo could cheat death forever. It was just that she'd never realized what it would feel like to know that he would soon be a part of her world. She was thankful for the advance notice. Soul Society had always kept an eye on Ichigo and the humans who had once fought with him. They had seen him live out his natural life, and while the power of his spirit seemed like it would go on forever, his body would not.

He was an old man. What hair was left on his head was white and thin. And he was dying. Soul Society would finally have a place for the man who could have been a captain when he was just a boy.

They kept him under constant watch for the last weeks of his life, even as plans were made for his death. Then one day, not long before sunset, Captain Ukitake had asked her to join him outside his private office. Unusual, given that all of their professional interaction normally took place in the proper place, but he did have a sentimental side. He seemed relaxed when she joined him in strolling along the koi pond. In the newly fine weather of the blooming spring, even the fish seemed more energetic, darting about in the water.

"I thought you should know that Ichigo will soon be dead," Ukitake said without preamble. "Reports are that he has days, at most. We'll bring him to Seireitei immediately, of course, but there's the matter of his soul burial..."

"I will do it," Rukia said immediately.

Ukitake nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "I thought you would. But there is another matter. I suppose you don't know that Captain Hisagi has been asked to join the Central 46."

"I hadn't heard."

"It was a surprise to me as well," he said. "I believe he will excel in the position. But that leaves us with an opening."

"For Ichigo." She understood immediately. "You want him to be a captain."

Ukitake nodded. "There are a number of things that must be done first—he will need an adjustment period, and it will be some weeks before Shuuhei takes up his new position."

"When was this decided?"

"Just today, but it's been under discussion for a while now," he said. "Captain Zaraki was especially enthusiastic."

She bit back a smile. "That should help Ichigo get back to fighting fitness quickly."

"I thought so." Ukitake smiled. "As I said, there are a number of things to deal with, but I thought you should know immediately, considering your history."

At the moment, Rukia felt that history bearing down on her. "Thank you, sir."

Soon after, word came that it was time. She stepped through the gate to the living world, Shirayuki at her side, and went to him.

The man who lay in bed was weak, but his reiatsu still pulsed strongly around him. He slept deeply, his breath shallow and growing shallower. She watched and waited for the end to come. Just before it did, around an hour later, he opened his eyes and focused on her. He smiled, before closing them one last time.

The morning after Ichigo died, Rukia delayed getting up as long as possible. It could have been called dawdling, save that Kuchiki did not dawdle. She could have told herself she had an excuse. She'd slept poorly, drifting in and out of dreams that she remembered only a little and wasn't sure she wanted to recall further. But that would be lying to herself, and she tried to do less of that these days.

She didn't want to see Ichigo—and she did. It had been years since they'd talked, longer since they'd said anything worth the air it took to form the words. But here in Soul Society, his soul's form was not the man she'd watched grow up, grow old. Ichigo was young again, intense and vital. It shook her in ways she thought she'd put behind her.

No. That was long over. Whatever had passed between them years ago, he was her friend now and like any new soul, he'd need to adjust to Soul Society. It was her duty to help with that, not think about...whatever she was not going to think about.

She stood and left for the baths. A cold rinse would do her good.

Ichigo was lurking about the hall when she emerged, clean and dressed. "Hey," he said. "Morning."

She swallowed heavily. Speech should not be difficult. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

A wry expression flickered across his face for an instant. "Fine," he said. He turned slightly so she could see Zangetsu strapped to his back. "Look who showed up overnight."

"You won't need him today," she said.

"Oh?"

"I'll explain shortly. Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

"Follow me, then."

They didn't speak much on the way to the dining room, and little more when the servants brought them breakfast. Every time Rukia tried to say anything beyond small talk, she'd look up to see him watching her. Something about it affected her stomach unpleasantly. He looked like he expected her to say or do something, but what that something was, she had no idea. Maybe he expected them to return to their easy banter of long ago. Maybe he expected something entirely different.

Rukia felt as if there were some script she was supposed to follow, but she hadn't been allowed to read it. It had been easier yesterday, when her happiness at seeing him for the first time in so long had been enough. Now she kept stopping to think before she spoke, and everything that came out of her mouth felt wrong.

"So," he said, when the servants took the plates away. "What's new in Soul Society?"

She smiled into her teacup. "That's an awfully general question."

"Well, what do you expect? A guy wants to know these things."

"Perhaps you could be more specific?"

He scratched his head. "Well...how is everything going? When did you make vice-captain? How are Ganju and Kuukaku and Hanataro?"

"Things are going well, some time ago, and they are fine," she said. "The Shiba have moved—again—but you should visit when you can. I'm sure they'd like to see you."

"Yeah, maybe." He shrugged. "How's Renji?"

"He's fine, too."

Ichigo made a face. "So he's fine, everyone's fine. I feel all up to date now."

"Do you want me to go over every detail? It has only been five years since last we spoke."

"Six," he corrected. "And it was the rest of my life, so it felt kinda long." He looked away.

"I suppose so," she said quietly.

He sipped his tea. "Hey, this is really good stuff. Byakuya springs for the best, huh?"

"Since when are you such a connoisseur of tea?"

He shrugged. "I got old. Tastes change."

She gave him a long, measuring look. "You are not old now."

That was a lie. He was old, now—older than he looked, and far older than the clueless boy she'd once known. It showed in his eyes, a little, and she wondered about all he'd experienced in the time since she'd last seen him, and in the years before that, when their brief visits were reduced to words that sounded friendly and spoke of nothing that mattered.

"Hurry and finish," she said. "We have to leave soon."

She led him away from the Kuchiki grounds and through several blocks of Seireitei before curiosity got the best of him. "Where are we going?"

She glanced at him, but didn't stop walking. "It will be some time before you officially become captain. Captain Hisagi has his own preparations to make before he takes up his new position, and you must learn about running a division. You will have assistance. But now that you are here, a reception has been arranged following this morning's weekly assembly of the current captains."

Captain Ukitake was there to greet them as they entered the meeting room.

"Welcome, Ichigo-kun." He smiled warmly. "It is good to have you finally with us."

Captain Kyouraku was right behind him. "Kurosaki!" he crowed. "Please tell me that big friend of yours will be next."

"Sorry, but last I heard Chad was still hale and hearty," Ichigo said. "I think he'll live forever."

"Pity." He pouted. "I owe that boy a drink. He has to be legal now."

Rukia hung back as they drew Ichigo further into the group. She was the only vice-captain in attendance, and it was not her place to escort him further. She watched with apprehension as Yamamoto moved forward to greet his latest captain-to-be, but Ichigo shook the man's hand with no more than a hint of coolness on his face. It seemed that some wounds really did heal.

From Ichigo's perspective, she supposed, it must appear that not much had changed in the Gotei 13 since his first...visit, as a ryoka. Few changes in lineup since the great war, though the battle itself had changed them all. But from the inside, Rukia had seen other differences. Things had had to change. She watched his guarded expression, and wondered how long it would take Ichigo to understand.

"Hey." She turned around to see Renji. "Looks like I'm late."

"Only a little," she replied, tensing.

"He looks...okay. Less wrinkly." He nodded at Ichigo. "Guess I should say hello."

"Renji...you don't have to."

"Relax, Rukia," he said quietly. "I'm just saying hello to an old friend. Oi, Ichigo!" He raised a hand in greeting as Ichigo turned.

"Renji." He grinned. "And here I thought they'd have kicked your ass out by now."

"Che, you wish. Though maybe I should run now that they're letting you in." He was smiling evenly, and Rukia relaxed a little.

"You've got some time. I've gotta get trained, apparently," Ichigo said. "What's that gonna be? Do I have to kick your ass one more time?"

Renji snorted. "You wish. No, Yamamoto will talk to you about it more later, but you're going to spend some time with each division—see how things are done, see how you might wanna do things in yours. And you'll take some classes at the Academy, maybe see if they can finally teach you some kidou."

"Back to school, huh?" Ichigo sounded more amused than annoyed. Apparently his patience had grown since she'd seen him. "I'll just tell myself it's like going to grad school."

Rukia frowned. She wanted to ask what that was, but they almost seemed to have forgotten she was there. Ichigo looked more at ease than he had since he'd arrived.

"You better not do a crappy job," Renji said. "That's my old vice-captain you have to follow."

"He made vice-captain before you did," Rukia pointed out.

"Yeah, and I made captain first, so what?"

Ichigo smirked. "Shouldn't you be asking me to live up to you, then?"

Renji paused for a moment. "Maybe. If you think you can."

"I guess we'll see."

The gathering broke up before long. There was plenty of work for the other captains to be doing, despite Kyouraku's invitation to a lovely little bar he knew nearby, and once everyone had had a chance to talk with Ichigo—her brother had used very few words—people began to disperse. Renji nodded goodbye to her on his way out. Ichigo drifted over to her. "So what now?"

"They didn't tell you?"

"No, I just figured you'd know."

"I see," she said. "I suppose I can assist you. But I am not your minder, remember."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I don't believe you have any more official obligations today," she said. "But I can escort you to your guest quarters."

He nodded. "Lead on, then. Not like I got much luggage."

The winding path she took led them by another set of buildings. "This is the academy," she said. "I thought you might like to see it."

"Sure." He looked around as they walked. "So this is where you went to school?"

"Yes. A long time ago." Very long. The would-be shinigami walking by in their crisp uniforms looked so _young_ to her, despite the fact that her physical appearance was no older than most of theirs. It was something else, in their expressions, perhaps, that made them look, to her, almost like children. She could remember being that young, the turmoil of being more than a child but not quite an adult, but it seemed like the memory was from another life.

"What was it like? Tough?"

"I suppose," she said. "It will be easier for you. You will not have a full curriculum."

"What, don't want to tell me about your school days? Did you do as bad as when you went to my school?" He smirked.

"There's nothing to tell." She glared. "But—"

"Ichigo!"

They both swung around in the direction of the voice. Who on earth would know him here? She squinted against the sunlight. A figure was dashing towards them, and he almost looked familiar.

"Keigo?" Ichigo gaped.

Rukia felt a distinct sense of déjà vu as she watched Asano Keigo leap at Ichigo in full-on glomp position. Ichigo dodged and sent Keigo crashing to the ground with a kick to the head. She couldn't help but be pleased that his reflexes were intact.

"Ah, it's just like the old days!" Keigo grinned from his prone position.

"When were you going to tell me about this, Rukia?" Ichigo demanded.

"I didn't know! You think I keep track of every new student in the academy? And don't be so rude." She extended a hand to Keigo to help him up.

"Ah, Kuchiki-san, as kind and beautiful as always." He grinned. "I wanted to come say hello to you when I enrolled, but they keep us so busy, and well...no one believed I knew a vice-captain."

"That's very sweet of you, Asano-kun. I'm sure I would have loved to say hello." She beamed. It had been a while since she'd gotten to practice her best sparkle.

"Right," Ichigo mumbled. "I can't believe you're here, Keigo. You want to be a shinigami?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I had some power when I was alive—thanks to you—but never got a chance to use it after that first time. And being dead is a lot more boring than I thought." He smirked. "Rumor has it that the new captain will be going to school, too. Don't worry—since we're old friends, I'll only make you call me sempai' in front of cute girls."

Ichigo turned to her. "I want another afterlife."

"Hey!"

"Perhaps I should leave you two to get re-acquainted." She turned to Keigo. "Keigo, do you know where the guest barracks are?" He nodded. "Good. If you could escort Ichigo there when you two are finished, I would appreciate it."

"Where are you going?" Ichigo asked, frowning.

"I do have things to do, Ichigo." She raised a hand in farewell. "It was good to see you again, Asano-kun. Ichigo, I'll see you later."

She felt a pang as she left them behind. For all his complaints, she'd sensed a bond of friendship that still remained between the two men. Keigo, she had no doubt, would know how to talk to Ichigo even after all this time.

She used to think she always would, too. But while some things never changed, others did.

_A little over fifty years ago_

"What do you want to do now?"

"I have nothing in mind."

"Ah, come on. There has to be something better than just sitting around here."

"I am the guest, Ichigo. You are the one familiar with the area."

"There's not that much going on now. End of the weekend, people are recovering."

"Ah. Sounds like Eleventh division after one of their parties."

"Ugh, don't make me think of them now. Want to get something to eat?"

"Is it dinnertime already?"

"Time flies, I guess. Anyway, I could eat if you wanted to. Or not. I'm good for whatever."

"We would have to get up."

"Not necessarily. There's delivery."

"You would have to answer the door."

"Ah. True. So...no food then. Any other suggestions?"

"Well..." Rukia ran a finger down his side. "We could...again."

Ichigo paused to consider. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good."

Rukia smiled smugly and climbed on top of him, kissing his neck as her weight pressed him into the sheets. He responded eagerly, running his hands up her thighs. She was rather impressed with how quickly he'd adapted to sex. There was something to be said for positive reinforcement.

The two days they'd spent together had passed in a blur, for all that they hadn't done much. Or rather, their activities hadn't had much variety from an outsider's perspective. They'd spent hours in Ichigo's bed, not minding that its small size forced them to be close in order to fit on it...for a while, anyway. A university student's bed wasn't the most comfortable place Rukia had rested, but she'd been reluctant to leave it, despite the way the sheets would end up twisted around them from all the motion. Ichigo had seemed equally content until the loud gurgles of his empty stomach had prompted her to demand he eat—watching him faint of hunger would hardly be attractive. When they'd returned, the much-used bed seemed...less cozy, somehow, and they'd experimented with enjoying each other in other locations. His desk. The shower. Once, the floor. For once, fate had smiled on them—Ichigo's badge alerted them to only one hollow the whole time. She'd never seen him defeat one so quickly; she'd barely had time to draw her own sword!

She was learning all sorts of things about Ichigo that she'd never expected to know. She learned how he liked to be touched, the sounds he made when she found certain places like his hips, the tender spot just under the curve of his jaw, and one or two of the scars that ran down his chest. There was also the fact that for a recent virgin, he was pretty damn good in bed. He took her instruction well, and she supposed all that endurance training had paid off. She'd thoroughly enjoyed her visit, even if it meant she would walk awkwardly for a time. She couldn't recall the last time she'd come so frequently, much less from anything but her own hand.

Afterward, she watched him doze for a while, resisting the urge to touch his face. Finally, she rolled over and sat up, waking him in the process. "Eh? What's up?"

"I have to go back," she said quietly.

"What, right now? You just got here!"

She smiled. "I got here two days ago, Ichigo. Time goes by quickly. But I shouldn't take more time away from my duties."

He reached up to stroke her shoulder. "I bet Ukitake would give you more time off if you asked."

"And what reason would you have me give?"

"Oh." He made a face—the idiot still never thought more than five minutes into the future. "Good point. Well, I could come with you."

She shook her head. "I know you have other commitments. I've taken enough of your time as it is." She leaned down to kiss him. "It's been a wonderful weekend," she murmured. "But we both have things we must do."

"Will you come back soon?"

Her smile slipped away. "Ichigo..."

"Aa." He looked away, and her stomach flopped unpleasantly at the sight.

"It's not a matter of not wanting to," she said. "But I have many responsibilities. My time is not my own."

"Yeah, I got it. It's just...after almost killing you, you'd think they could cut you some slack."

"It is not that simple."

"Never is."

They dressed in silence. Ichigo had some trouble locating his boxers, which some time ago she had flung who knew where, and finally settled on pulling a new pair out of his bureau. Back in her uniform, she tried to straighten out her hair, but it was a lost cause after spending so much time pressed against Ichigo's pillow.

He walked with her to the window. She looked up at him. "Ichigo, I want to tell you..."

"Yeah?"

He looked so happy. Less scowly, anyway, which was almost the same thing. She hated herself for what she was about to say—in truth, it would have been better if this entire weekend had never happened. But they'd held back for years—if Ichigo's self-conscious admission after their first time was to be believed, then they'd both had these feelings for quite some time, even if they hadn't consciously acknowledged them. There was only so much temptation she could stand.

"I want to tell you…that you don't have to wait for me."

He blinked. "What?"

She huffed impatiently. "Do I need to use smaller words?"

"I guess. What do you mean, I don't have to wait?"

She struggled to find the words that would make sense to him. She sometimes forgot how young he was, but how could she forget that he would not see the consequences of their actions as she did? "I mean that you don't need to feel...obligated...to me after our time together. I did not plan it, and I cannot hold you to any promises because of it."

"So you're ravishing and running, huh? I feel so used." He smirked. She fought the desire to punch him in the arm, then decided she didn't have to and did it anyway.

"I'm saying you are young. You have a life here, one for which I am not and will not be around to participate in or even see. You'll have the chance to...date, do other things. I don't want you to hold back out of any sense of obligation towards me."

"Rukia, don't be an idiot." Before she could protest, he wrapped his arms around her. "After what we just did, you really think I want to run out and date some other girl?"

"No." She smiled, wishing she had his certainty. "But you will."

He dropped his arms from her waist. "So should we just say this is it, then? Forget what happened!"

"No, Ichigo, that's not what I said." She frowned. As if she could forget it. "I'm saying...I treasure this time we've spent together. I...would not be unhappy if it happened again. But in between, while I'm gone, you're free to do as you will."

"Yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes. "Do I at least get a kiss goodbye?"

He did, and more. Rukia didn't bother to try and explain it to him further. Eventually, he would understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Original working title for this fic: "Dead Ichigo."


End file.
